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Chapter Text

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After speaking to his sick mother, Merlin quietly shuffled down his bedroom steps, leaving the door open where she lay. He looked at Gwen who had just stood to go back to tend to Hunith again and held up his hand. “Thank you, Gwen, for taking care of her. I’ll watch over her now. Please go rest.”

Gwen nodded. “I will be back, early in the morning. Let me know if you need anything before then.”

The corner of Merlin’s lip twitched. “She’s going to be okay. Don’t worry.”

Gwen wagged her head once, but stopped herself, and squeezed Merlin’s arm. “Yes, of course.” She let go of his arm and smoothed her skirt, casting a side glance toward the door. “I mean it. I will be back tomorrow.”

Merlin nodded, hugging his folded arms. The door shut. The only sounds remaining were the busy halls outside the door and Hunith’s rasps from the other room.

How did this happen? Merlin wondered. He had gone to the Isle of the Blessed and bargained for his own life to save Arthur, but Nimueh tricked him. Kilgharrah tricked him. And now, night was approaching and there was nothing he could do until morning. He prayed to the gods she would last that long. A tear wet Merlin’s arm, and he rubbed it off.

Merlin climbed the steps to his room. He grabbed a satchel and opened his wardrobe. He stuffed random things into the bag, his hands shaking as he packed to the unsteady rhythm of his mother’s breathing. He let his head fall forward on the wardrobe door, willing himself to not turn around and look at her.

“Merlin.” Gaius’s voice barely registered as Merlin leaned there, breathing in and out, in and out, wishing his mother would match his breaths. The infirmary door closed, hard. “Merlin!” the physician said again with urgency, and Merlin startled, lifting his head. He turned around and looked at his mother again, who was sleeping heavily, and then looked through his bedroom doorway.

“Merlin, are you alright?” Gaius said, coming to stand at the bottom of the stairs. He swallowed. “Is Hunith?”

Merlin nodded and Gaius’s shoulders relaxed. “Come, my boy,” Gaius held out his hand, gesturing towards the table. “I put some tea on earlier.”

Merlin put the bag down next to his door and came down. “I’ll sleep on the floor next to her tonight. Gwen says she’s coming tomorrow. I’ll head out as soon as the sun rises.”

Gaius blinked, but didn’t really respond. He ladled a cup and another and brought them over to the table. He sat down across from Merlin and put the cups down. Merlin picked up his cup and recognized the smell as a calming herbal mixture. He sipped slowly, and Gaius spoke. “So Gwen’s coming tomorrow?” Merlin nodded and took another sip. “That’s awfully kind of her,” Gaius said. Merlin nodded again.

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The next morning, a couple of hours before sunrise, Gwen knocked lightly on the infirmary door. Gaius opened it so quickly, it surprised her. He whispered, “Merlin’s still up there, sleeping. He’ll probably wake up soon if you want to go ahead and sit in there.”

Gwen nodded, and Gaius watched as she went up the steps and closed the door quietly behind her. As soon as she shut the door, he turned to his desk and folded a dry parchment. He put it on the table and grabbed his bag. He left the infirmary, clicking the door shut.

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When Merlin awoke and went downstairs with his bag, he was just starting to grab an apple or some food before leaving when he found the note.

Gaius had left for the Isle of the Blessed. He intended to sacrifice himself instead of Merlin. Merlin cried, “No!” He slung his bag over his shoulder and ran out the door. When Gwen opened the bedroom door, the infirmary door was already slamming. The wind from it made a paper on the table flutter to the floor. She picked it up and read it.

Dear Merlin,

My life is already near to its end. There has, for the most part, been very little purpose to it, very little that will be remembered. In contrast, Merlin, your life is destined for greatness. Live by the tenets I have taught you, and I believe you will, in time, become the greatest warlock ever. To have known you has been my greatest pleasure, and to sacrifice myself for you is but an honor. You are and always will be the son I never had.

Gaius

Gwen took in a sharp breath. Greatest warlock ever? Did Merlin have magic? She folded the note into a tiny square and hid it in her fist.

A strangling cough started from the other room. Gwen rushed up the steps and lifted Hunith’s head up.

“Can you drink?” she said, reaching for a cup on the bed table.

Hunith nodded and carefully sipped, grasping Gwen’s arm to keep from falling back.

Gwen closed her eyes, tears welling up as she thought of the clenched square of paper in the hand that cradled Hunith’s head.

She knew what it was like in Camelot to be accused of sorcery. She had almost lost her own life over it. She had lost her father.

Hunith nodded and weakly pushed the cup away. Gwen lowered her back on the bed, and she closed her eyes.

Gwen stood, rocking back and forth, watching Hunith as she dropped back into sleep, her breath rattling as she inhaled.

Gwen wagged her head. She opened her hand and looked at the damning piece of paper. She closed her fist and marched down the steps. She threw it into the fire and went back upstairs to take care of her friend’s dying parent.

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Chapter Text

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Merlin quickly hopped off the boat and ran up to the grassy area inside the ruins of the temple. Nimueh was shouting a spell and Gaius was on the ground.

“Stop!” Merlin cried.

The sorceress in red took a measuring look and a mocking tone when she said, “Back again so soon, warlock?

“What have you done?” Merlin pleaded.

“Your mother is safe. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Ignoring her taunt, he said, “Have you killed him?”

The sorceress danced around the question. Merlin was losing his temper. “I bid my life for Arthur’s, not my mother’s, not Gaius’s!”

Nimueh seemed to want to have a discussion, but Merlin was tired of all the explaining. He had already been tricked more than once by all the talking. She was just like Kilgharrah.

“No, it was supposed to be me.” Merlin crouched down and frantically began to shake Gaius. “Gaius!” he rasped.

“Don’t touch him! You are interfering with the ceremony.” Nimueh raised her hand, and Merlin held up a defensive hand. She shot a fiery ball at Merlin, and it knocked him down. He tucked and rolled with it, pushing himself off the ground and standing again.

The sorceress held her hand up. “You wanted me to take your life. I will!” She shot another flaming ball at him, and he fell before he could do a counter-spell.

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When Gaius awoke, he smelled burning. He jerked into a sitting position and turned to the altar. “Merlin! No!”

He pushed himself up, wobbling, attempting to regain his balance through broken sobs. He rushed towards the flames, shielding his face as his hairs started to singe and his arm burned. “My boy, what has she done!”

Through his tears and in the smoke, he could see that Merlin had been there too long. It was too late. Wiping his eyes with a clenched fist and the sleeve of his robe, he cleared his vision to look around. Nimueh was nowhere to be found.

His attention went back to the fire. He opened his water skin and doused it with the entire bottle. It made no difference at all. Desperately, Gaius looked to the entrance of the temple where the moat was. He was torn about whether or not to go get more water or stay. Then, a rumble came from the sky. Gaius looked up and saw drops rushing down towards him. He ducked his head and watched the fire begin to die down.

With the help of the rain, the flames became low enough that Gaius was able to take a blanket from his pack and beat them into submission. He was finally able to retrieve his boy’s broken form from the altar.

He laid him on the ground with reverence, wrapping him in the blanket. He would have to find a place for his boy to rest now, he thought, and made ready to bury his body.

A few hours later, damp with wet soot and starting to chill, Gaius rummaged through his bag for some dry clothes. The rain had long since stopped, but he shivered against the darkness that had now fallen. Still unsure where Nimueh had disappeared to and too tired to look for her or even build a fire, Gaius decided to go to sleep and figure things out in the morning.

He looked at Merlin’s horse and swallowed. Merlin’s bedroll was still tied to the back. Gaius had used his blanket for Merlin. He untied the roll and tenderly lifted it from the horse. Gaius hugged the roll to his chest like it was a small child. He choked back a sob as he realized it smelled like his boy. With a sigh, Gaius spread the pallet next to Merlin’s resting place and closed his eyes to fall into an exhausted and fitful sleep.

When morning came, Gaius searched far and wide for the sorceress, but she must have left the area. He decided to go home and tell Hunith and the others about Merlin. He hoped Arthur would understand just how much Merlin had done for him.

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Chapter Text

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It had been a few minutes since Gwen had told Arthur. She was with Hunith when Gaius came home and told them. Gwen was now in Arthur’s chambers awkwardly standing beside him while he sat at the table. Arthur pinched his hand across his eyes, pressing the tears back down. He murmured, “I just don’t understand. Why did he do this?”

“Why did you go on the quest to get the flower?” Gwen asked, touching his shoulder. He raised his face to study hers. He watched as she swiped across her own eye and pulled out a handkerchief.

Arthur huffed with a sad chuckle. “He always was a self-sacrificing idiot. He drank that poisoned chalice, even though there was no reason to.”

A line of disbelief formed on Gwen’s forehead. She gave him a sidelong look. Arthur knew she was thinking, ‘pot meet kettle’. He sighed and stroked his brow with a nod of admittance.

“I never got to say goodbye,” Arthur mumbled. “I guess that’s what he was doing.”

“What do you mean?” Gwen asked.

“When he came to check on me. He said that he’d be happy to be my servant until…” Arthur couldn’t finish the sentence. He closed his eyes and turned away from Gwen.

Gwen took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Merlin must have done that while she was taking care of Hunith. He had known all along. Hunith’s recovery had been a miracle. Now she wondered if it had not been a coincidence.

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Not long after Gwen’s news, Arthur found himself knocking on the infirmary door. As soon as the door opened, he said without preamble, “I want to know who the sorceress was that killed Merlin.”

“Nimueh,” Gaius answered. “That was her name.”

Arthur worked his jaw. “I want to go after her, Gaius,” he said. “She should be executed. I’ll arrest her and bring her back to Camelot.”

“Arthur…” Gaius started in a warning tone, but Arthur closed his eyes and held his hand up to silence him.

Gaius held his tongue, but nervously played at the edge of his robe. After a moment, he said, “Your father didn’t want you to know about Nimueh.”

“My father?” Arthur’s mouth went slack. “Does my father know her?”

“She is the same sorceress you met in the cave when you got the flower.”

Arthur gasped. “The same one? Don’t you think my Father would want her stopped?”

Gaius nodded but swallowed. “This time I think your Father should not be involved until after you’ve caught the sorcerer. I have already taken a risk in telling you about her, but it is time you knew. I’ve kept secrets far too long.” His voice broke. “And now, my boy is dead.” Gaius slumped, clasping his hands together.

“You’re right. Merlin should have told me he was going to make a deal with this sorceress,” Arthur said.

“You were dying,” Gaius stated flatly.

Arthur frowned, “True. But really, why would Merlin think he could deal with a sorcerer?”

Gaius had an unreadable look on his face. “What is it?” Arthur said.

Gaius wet his lips and shook his head. “Arthur, there’s a reason Merlin didn’t tell you a lot of things.”

Arthur retracted his face with a confused look. What kinds of secrets did Merlin keep from him?

Gaius continued, “I need you to swear to me that you will not hurt Hunith. I don’t care what you do to me, but you must not let anything bad happen to her.”

Arthur grew even more bewildered. “Gaius, what are you trying to say? Of course, I would never hurt Hunith, or you.”

Gaius nodded with a wary look and said, “Merlin went to Nimueh because he thought he could use magic to heal you. Merlin was a sorcerer.”

Arthur blinked. “Merlin? A sorcerer?” He searched the physician’s face, trying to make sense of what he said, but Gaius said nothing. He just nodded. Arthur spoke again. “He was going to heal me? With magic?”

Arthur’s expression went from confused to broken, but then his whole face softened. He whispered, “I can’t believe Merlin would do that for me. I can’t believe he lived here. I can’t believe he’s gone.”

Gaius stood silently for a long time, with a sad look on his face. Arthur started crying again and didn’t even care to hide it. Gaius gestured a hand towards a bench at the table. Arthur sat down, and Gaius sat beside him. Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and kept wiping tears. Gaius reached across and rubbed him on the back.

Arthur eventually noticed a log in the fireplace shift and fall slightly. A cauldron hung above it, and it registered with Arthur that a savory aroma was coming from the pot. Arthur raised his face and looked at Gaius. “I’m sorry. It was probably time for you to eat.”

Gaius raised his head and shrugged. “I don’t know if I would have been able to eat it anyway. It’s really for Hunith more than for me.”

Arthur glanced at the closed door that was Merlin’s. “How is she?”

Gaius shrugged. “As well as anyone who has lost a son could be expected to be. She’s sleeping.”

Arthur nodded. “I will get justice for her son’s death. She can be assured of that.”

Gaius dipped his head. He said quietly, “Arthur, I still need to tell you something.”

Arthur turned to face Gaius.

“Nimueh is a sorceress, as you know. A very powerful sorceress.” Gaius narrowed his eyes. “She cannot be defeated by normal means. Just like you couldn’t defeat the griffin with a normal weapon, you will not be able to defeat her without magic.”

Arthur steepled his hands and tapped his forefingers together. “What do you mean the griffin couldn’t be defeated with a normal weapon? I thought it couldn’t, but I was wrong.”

Gaius was raising his eyebrow. “No, you were right.”

Arthur’s brows came down and up again comically, as it occurred to him this may have been one of the secrets Merlin didn’t tell him. He listened while Gaius continued.

“When your father killed the wraith, he had an enchanted sword. Merlin hid it because it was prophesied that in the hands of another, it would wield great evil. It was meant for you, not Uther. Merlin had it made for you.”

“Can this enchanted sword kill Nimueh?” Arthur asked, then swallowed because he knew she must come back to Camelot to stand trial first.

“Yes,” Gaius answered. “But you will have to get it first.”

“Do you know where it is?”

Gaius nodded.

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “Where is it?”

“It’s at the Lake of Avalon,” Gaius said. “The Sidhe have it.”

“Fairies?” Arthur said. “How do you know?”

“That isn’t really important right now, but what is important is that you obtain this sword. It’s at the bottom of the lake, but you’ll have to ask the Sidhe to give it to you.”

“I see,” Arthur said. “How will I get them to do that?”

“I have reason to believe they’d be willing to give it to you if you tell them who the sorceress killed,” Gaius answered.

“Merlin?” Arthur tilted his face.

“Yes, Arthur.” Gaius explained. “You see, Merlin wasn’t just any sorcerer. He was magic itself. He was the prophesied Emrys of the druids. He was supposed to…Well, never mind what was supposed to happen. He’s gone now.”

Arthur’s jaw hung as Gaius talked, but he didn’t ask any questions.

“If you tell them that Nimueh killed Emrys, they will give you the sword.”

“Then that is what I will do.”

Gaius clasped Arthur’s arm with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Arthur—for doing this, and for listening. We’ll talk about a plan, but first, let me give you something to eat.”

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Chapter Text

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Two days later, Arthur and Lancelot tied their horses on a couple of trees by the Lake of Avalon. Gaius had suggested the former knight go with him as a precaution. He explained that Lancelot knew about Merlin’s magic, and that he would not be bothered about retrieving a magical sword.

As they approached the shore, Arthur’s steps slowed. An uneasy feeling settled in his stomach as a vague memory of a dream came unbidden. Arthur remembered lying on the shore choking water, gasping desperately. When Arthur had gulped in that deep breath, everything had gone dark after that. That's when he’d realized the nightmare had been over.

“You all right?” Lancelot said, noticing he had frozen on the shore with a vacant stare.

Arthur shook the memory away. “I’m fine. Let’s get started.”

Lancelot nodded and pulled two red vials from a satchel hanging from his shoulder. He handed one to Arthur and opened the cork on his own bottle. They both turned them up and drank. They looked at each other and blinked in surprise to see the other’s eyes turn red.

Arthur turned away from Lancelot and searched the lake for any sign of the Sidhe. It was tinted red instead of its normal color. The sky had taken on a haze of oranges, reds, and pinks like that of a sunset, but the trees gave away that was not what this was. They glowed like coals in a fire and a gold shiny dust blew off their leaves. Then Arthur noticed the bright fiery beings the size of insects flitting over the water. Sometimes they touched the pinkish surface, and orange ripples circumferenced their winged human-like bodies.

“You dare to summon the Sidhe, Arthur Pendragon,” hissed a tiny winged man with a sharp-toothed scowl.

Arthur noticed the creature wore a crown. He assumed he must be their king. Lancelot had drawn a sword and was poised to use it. Keeping his eye on the creature, Arthur raised a placating hand at Lancelot. Lancelot lowered his weapon as Arthur moved his hand downwards.

Arthur stood up straight and spoke in a loud voice. “I have come in the name of the one the druids call Emrys.”

“We know the druids. They think they know better than Sidhe. Their prophesied savior is supposed to bring magic back to Albion. But they will fail. And yet, you come to me in their name.”

“No, I come in the name of Emrys,” Arthur said. “The one they call Nimueh has killed him in exchange for my own life.”

The king visibly stilled, and his eyes widened. Arthur clenched his fists, not sure how the king was going to respond. Then suddenly, without any explanation, he held out his scepter over the water. A golden hilt of a sword emerged from the surface. It slowly rose until Arthur could see a silver sword with a gold inlay of writing. The sword levitated above the water and came to hover horizontally just out of Arthur’s reach in front of the king.

“This sword will kill the high priestess you speak of. She has become too dangerous for all magic-kind. She must not escape,” the tiny king said.

The sword came close enough for Arthur to grab. He did. He studied the runes on the blade.

“Pick me up. Put me down again,” Lancelot said next to him.

Arthur startled as he was not thinking about Lancelot still standing there. He looked at the knight with a little confusion.

“Merlin told me about it in a letter,” Lancelot said.

“Did you know where it was, too?” Arthur frowned, and Lancelot shook his head in denial.

The Sidhe king spoke again. “No mortal man, other than you, should ever wield this sword.” He pointed a bony finger at Arthur. “It would do great evil in the hands of another.”

In spite of wondering why he kept being told that, Arthur inclined his head and exchanged a look with Lancelot. Then, Arthur turned back to the king with a small bow. “Thank you,” he said.

The tiny king dipped his head. After that, he and his subjects began to fade from Arthur’s vision, making him wonder if it all had been a dream. But when he looked down at the sword in his hand, he knew that it hadn’t. He lifted the sword into a twirling motion, testing its balance. He thrust it forward, stabbing at the air. Pulling it back to admire it, he mused, “This is a very nice sword.”

Lancelot, too, was watching with an impressed expression. “Gwen’s father made it,” he said.

“He did a good job,” Arthur said. Then, he frowned.

Lancelot noticed. “Hey, everything okay? Is it Merlin?”

Arthur shook his head. “No, Gwen’s father. He died. It was terrible the way it happened.”

Lancelot wasn’t sure how to respond. “I didn’t know that, Arthur. I’m sorry.”

Arthur lowered his face, looking back up at Lancelot with a grim acknowledgement. He sheathed the sword, and they started walking back to the horses.

Right before swinging up onto his horse, Arthur hesitated with his hand on the pommel. “It happened a couple of weeks ago,” he said distantly. “I’m sure Merlin would have told you in his next letter. I suppose he’ll never get to do that now.” Arthur paused, trying to swallow past a lump in his throat. “I feel guilty. I see things now that I didn’t before.”

Lancelot stood by his horse, fumbling with a strap on his saddlebag. He wasn’t sure what Arthur meant by feeling guilty—if it was over the blacksmith’s death, or Merlin’s, or both—but he wasn’t about to ask. He waited to see if Arthur would say more, but watched him silently climb onto his horse and wait for him to do the same.

Once they were mounted, they turned their horses towards the Isle of the Blessed. They rode in silence, each man apparently left to his own thoughts. Arthur brooded while Lancelot wondered what preoccupied the man. Finally, Lancelot couldn’t stand it anymore.

“What kinds of things?” he said, turning to face Arthur.

Arthur pivoted in the saddle, his brow creasing.

Lancelot gripped the reins a little tighter. “What I mean to say is what kinds of things do you see that you didn’t see before?” he said.

Arthur seemed to weigh his response as he said, “It’s just…I don’t think my father ever intended to give the blacksmith a fair trial. There was a sorcerer in his forge, and that’s all Father needed to know. I really couldn’t blame him for trying to escape the dungeons. He knew.”

Lancelot regarded Arthur, more questions rising to the surface of his mind. But when it seemed Arthur refused to talk anymore, Lancelot turned back to watch the passing scenery of greenery—trees, leaves, more trees, and more leaves.

Lancelot was a little surprised when Arthur spoke again. “And if he would have found out about Merlin—”

Lancelot jerked to look again at Arthur who cut himself off. Lancelot worked his jaw, giving Arthur an almost imperceptible nod, and turned back to resume his focus on the path ahead.

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Chapter Text

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The day Lancelot and Arthur finally reached the Isle of the Blessed, the setting sun stained the sky with red as the two approached a dilapidated temple surrounded by a moat. They came up to a wizened man by a small boat. He peered out from under his hood at them and held out an open palm. The sleeve of his tattered robe fluttered in the breeze as Arthur dropped two silver coins into it. He took the money and gestured for them to enter his boat. They crossed the water to the entrance of the temple.

When they walked across the grassy courtyard, Arthur recognized the dark-haired woman who seemed to be waiting for them. She looked very different from the helpless girl he had met at the cave the day he tried to find a rare flower to save Merlin’s life. The sorceress with the knowing smile before him was clad in a blood red dress adorned with jewels. She had left him to die there at the cave. She killed his friend. Now, she would answer for her crimes.

“Arthur Pendragon, we truly meet at last,” she crooned, voice dripping with honeyed poison.

“Nimueh,” he answered quietly.

Lancelot crept a distance away, flanking the sorceress. He drew his weapon.

Nimueh cut her eyes over to him, but resumed a demure smile, choosing to focus on Arthur instead. “I will guide you until you are ready to take the throne,” she purred.

Arthur’s jaw went slack and he blinked incredulously. Then, he pulled his sword from his belt. Lancelot moved in closer.

“You will do no such thing,” Arthur stated very calmly and deliberately. “You dare to play with the lives of men as pawns.” Arthur unlinked a pair of cuffs from his sword belt. “I’m taking you back to Camelot where you will pay for your crimes.”

Unfazed, Nimueh broke into a gleeful titter, but suddenly, her expression soured. “You dare to accuse me of playing with lives when your father disregards those of my kind so freely.” Contempt and disdain made her fists clench and twitch at her side. Lancelot noticed a glow from between her fingers.

Arthur ignored her taunts and marched towards her, cuffs in one hand, the other pointing the sword her way. “I’m here to arrest you. You can come back to Camelot to stand trial, or you will face justice here.”

Nimueh cupped a hand. She was holding a glowing sphere and seemed to point it in Arthur’s direction. His eyes widened as she drew it back to pitch. Dropping the cuffs, he took Excalibur with both hands. The fireball missed him as Lancelot lunged forward with a swipe at her other arm.

She looked down in disbelief at the red line that was starting to trickle down her wrist. She glared at Lancelot and drew the other sphere back to attack him. The fireball came straight towards him. He ducked.

When Arthur had seen her aim that second ball, he closed in. As she released it from her hand, he pounced forward with his sword and thrust the point into her chest.

She cried out and blinked at Arthur with a pained expression. Arthur gritted his teeth as he pulled the sword out. From the corner of his eye, he saw Lancelot rolling away.

Nimueh was pressing a hand into her chest. She took in a sharp breath as the runes glinted off Arthur’s dripping blade. “You carry a dragon-forged weapon?” she croaked out.

Arthur didn’t answer but grasped the sword tighter, keeping it trained on her. It didn’t seem to matter, though, because she doubled over. Arthur could no longer tell what part of the red he saw was dress or blood. She crumpled to her knees, gasping.

“I did it for Albion,” she said. “I saved you—twice, because you…Once…Future…I wish…” She fell in a heap at Arthur’s feet. He pulled his foot back. She didn’t move.

Arthur held his sword limply. He stared down at the misguided woman, wondering what she had meant by “twice.”

Lancelot had gotten up off the ground and turned back toward them and the altar. He dropped his sword with a muted metallic thud on the grass. “Arthur,” he said quietly. Arthur looked up from Nimueh’s body to where he was pointing with a drop-jawed stare.

The figure in the blue tunic and red neckerchief was there on the altar just as Gaius had described where he had found him when he awoke from Nimueh’s attack. Arthur couldn’t understand how he was here when Gaius said that his body had been burned beyond recognition. He said he had buried him.

If that was true, then why was his friend here, on this slab of stone?

Arthur’s eyes filled with tears, wondering if this was one last spell of Nimueh, her last attempt to wound him beyond her own death. “Merlin?” Arthur's legs felt like water as he stumbled to the altar. He let Excalibur clatter at Merlin’s feet and cuffed a hand around his bicep. It was him, or at least it felt like him.

Lancelot followed Arthur and pulled him gently back by the elbow. “Sire,” he protested, but Arthur shrugged him off and pushed him aside.

“Merlin,” he cried, and he put his forehead down to Merlin’s. The sob that escaped shook his entire body. Raising his face and looking at Merlin’s still countenance, he said, “Why? Why did you have to leave?” He buried himself in his friend’s chest and cried.

Lancelot didn’t dare leave Arthur’s side, but he couldn’t bear to watch. His own eyes had filled with tears, and he gazed upwards, praying that some god would have mercy on them. Afraid this was a trick, he wiped his eyes and brought his face down to focus on Arthur. He determined to pull him away this time, even if he had to drag him back to the horses.

That was when he caught it. The movement. Merlin’s finger, or the finger of whatever this was. Lancelot stared at the finger as if it was a snake poised to strike.

“Lancelot?” Merlin said.

Lancelot jerked his gaze to Merlin’s voice. Arthur stirred, lifting his head.

Merlin pulled in his chin to look at him. “Arthur?”

Arthur blinked up at Merlin with an incredulous look of shock that morphed into elated joy. “Merlin,” he said, squeezing Merlin’s bicep as he pushed up.

“Oww…” Merlin rubbed his arm. Arthur’s smile faltered with an apologetic look.

“But how did you—” Arthur started as Merlin raised himself up on his elbows.

“Lancelot, are you okay?” Merlin asked, wrinkling his brow at the man who still was standing there frozen.

“I want to believe it’s you, Merlin,” Lancelot said cautiously.

Merlin blinked like a fog was still clearing from his brain. He looked around. “Where’s Nimueh?” His mouth silently formed an ‘oh’ as his eyes settled on the woman lying on the ground.

Merlin pulled at the neck of his tunic, studying his chest underneath. His brow creased and he looked back up at Arthur, looking for an explanation. “What happened?” he said. He didn’t give them a chance to answer, but suddenly swung his legs over the side of the altar. “Where is Gaius?” he said, alarmed.

“Gaius is safe,” Arthur said, grasping Merlin’s shoulder. “He’s in Camelot. Maybe you could tell us what happened.”

Merlin noticed that Lancelot had picked up his sword off the ground, but he was not sheathing it.

“Arthur, I—” he started. “I don’t know.”

“Gaius said you came here to trade your life for mine. Why you thought you should make a deal with a sorceress, I don’t think I’ll ever understand.” Arthur paused to give Merlin an accusatory stare. “It went badly, of course.”

“Well, actually it didn’t. At first.” Merlin pursed his lips, shifting his eyes downward and back up again with a sassy smirk. Then the rambling started. “It saved you from the Questing beast bite, but then she tried to kill my mother, and then Gaius, and we came here, and I had to save Gaius—”

Arthur held up his hand, and Merlin stopped talking. “Slow down, Merlin. You lost me, there.”

Lancelot huffed and sheathed his sword. “Merlin,” he said with relief, “I’m glad you’re alive.” He clapped Merlin across the shoulder and hooked his elbow around Merlin’s neck, pulling him slightly off balance. Lancelot let him go, and Merlin stood. Merlin’s mouth turned up as he straightened himself, pulling at the hem of his tunic.

Then he grimaced with a pained look. “I still don’t understand what happened, though. I thought I died.” Merlin rubbed at his chest.

“You did,” Arthur said quietly, and Lancelot nodded in agreement beside him. Arthur’s eyes were suspiciously glassy, and Merlin was touched.

When Merlin didn’t say anything, Arthur continued, “Gaius said you died here.” He pointed at the altar. “He said Nimueh knocked him out, and he thought she was going to kill him, but when he woke, you were on the altar instead, and Nimueh was gone. He said you were already dead, Merlin, and he didn’t know how long you had been burning. We came here to find her.”

“I see you did.” Merlin cracked, dropping his eyelids with a side glance at Nimueh’s prone form. He huffed a little laugh. As he did though, his smile dropped when his eyes rolled back and he wobbled. Lancelot steadied him with an outstretched arm. “Do you need to sit down, Merlin?”

Merlin nodded and slid down to the ground in front of the altar, leaning his back against the stone. The other two sat down next to him, eyeing him with concern. Merlin drew his knees up and held his head in his hands.

Arthur and Lancelot exchanged a wary look. Arthur finally asked, “Does your coming back from the dead have anything to do with your magic?”

Merlin jerked his head up at Arthur. Then he shot a questioning glance at Lancelot. “Did you tell him?” The hurt in his voice was heart wrenching. Lancelot waved his hands with a slight shake of his head.

Arthur answered for him. “It was Gaius, but he didn’t betray you. He wanted me to avenge your death, but he knew I would have to have the help of magic.” Arthur stood up from the ground and pulled Excalibur from the top of the altar.”

Merlin gasped. He hadn’t even noticed the sword being up there.

“Gaius said you had this made for me.” Arthur held the blade out, letting its runes catch the last rays of sun and first of the full moon. “This was my only defense against Nimueh.”

Merlin smiled and dipped his head at that. He watched with pride as Arthur sheathed the sword at his side and sat back down beside them. Then Merlin dropped his eyelids as if he was contemplating something that weighed him down. “You know I can never go back now. Your father would have me executed,” he said. “And Gaius, for keeping me.”

Arthur shook his head. “No, no. I will not allow that to happen. I don’t know how, but I will do everything in my power to protect you and Gaius. My father doesn’t know about your magic.” He narrowed his eyes, focusing on something in the distance. “I don’t even think he knows you’re dead, or you were dead, or you know what I mean.”

Merlin nodded with a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thank you, sire,” he said quietly.

“Why are you sad?” Arthur asked, studying his hands as he grasped the ring on his finger, and looking back up at Merlin.

Merlin shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just the prophecy said that you’d bring magic back to Camelot.” He dropped his face again, avoiding Arthur’s eyes.

Lancelot’s head pivoted to Arthur with a pointed stare. He looked back at the top of Merlin’s head and back at Arthur with an expectant eyebrow raise.

Arthur sighed. “Merlin, you’ll have to give me a chance. I will try my best to do that, but I’m not the king, yet.”

Merlin looked back up at Arthur with a small flicker of hope.

Arthur's mouth went slack, and he gave Merlin a crooked smile. “When I am king, I will make sure Camelot is a good place for you. It’s the least I can do after you saved my life.”

Merlin’s face lit up. He glanced over at Lancelot as if he was asking him if he was hearing this. Lancelot smiled as if he was asking him if he had expected any less.

Merlin sighed happily, leaning forward and folding his arms over his knees, resting his face on them to gaze out at the rising moon. Lancelot pat Merlin’s shoulder and started to stand.

“Yes, I suppose we need to make camp,” Arthur announced, noting when Lancelot got up. He also stood and reached an arm down to Merlin. Merlin grinned and took it, allowing Arthur to pull him up.

“I don’t want to camp here,” Arthur continued, with a grimace toward the sorceress. “We’ll have to wait until morning to bury her,” he said with almost an apologetic look at Merlin.

Merlin looked confused. “What is it?” he said.

Arthur shook his head. “It’s just she was one of your kind.”

Merlin shut his eyes and shook his head. “She was evil, Arthur. I don’t want any part of that.”

Arthur bit his lip and nodded. Lancelot clapped Arthur’s arm. “You did the right thing, Arthur.”

Merlin nodded fervently. “Yes, you did. I appreciate that you are still willing to give her a proper burial, but you should not feel bad for her death.”

Arthur, once again, looked awestruck with the two friends who stood beside him. Both of them were as noble or even more so than any he knew who officially held that title. He was grateful to be surrounded by men who supported him as they did.

An hour after they had rolled out their beds in a wooded area outside the temple, Merlin blinked up at the sky and said, “I didn’t really think of this before, but how can I go back home if everyone thinks I’m dead?”

Lancelot turned his head to Merlin, and Arthur propped himself up on his side. “That is a good question.” Merlin turned his head, a glimmer in his eye. Arthur said, “We may have to come up with something regarding that. Good job that not everyone knows. Maybe we can send them a warning.”

“Who knows, Arthur?” Lancelot had sat up. “Gaius? His mother? Anyone else?”

“Yes, Gaius and Hunith. Gwen knows. Maybe Morgana because of Gwen. I’m not sure if the news would have gotten around to everyone yet. I’m pretty sure my father doesn’t know at all because for some reason, Gaius didn’t want him involved with going after Nimueh.”

“So…if word hasn’t gotten around,” Lancelot said, “maybe we can send a warning to those closest to Merlin, so they won’t be shocked when he comes home.” He turned back to Merlin. “Do you have any ideas, Merlin?”

Merlin’s brow wrinkled. Then a clever twinkle ghosted across his face. He sat up. “I do, actually.”

“Okay,” Arthur drawled out. “What’s that, Merlin?”

Merlin clicked his tongue. “Well, it involves magic.”

Lancelot had started shaking his head with a smirk.

Arthur sat up. “So, are you going to tell us what it is?” Arthur criss-crossed his knees and tapped his fingers on his lap.

“Well, I need a bird. You know, like a raven, and I will fix a message to its leg.”

“Like a messenger pigeon?” Lancelot asked.

“Yes, but the magic makes it go faster, and I can send longer messages,” Merlin explained.

Arthur was nodding with an impressed smirk. Lancelot was blinking back and forth between the two, tickled at the pleased expression on Merlin’s face and the ‘attaboy’ look on Arthur’s. When Arthur noticed Lancelot’s look, he cleared his throat and said, “Okay, well I think we have heard enough tonight, Merlin. We’ve got a lot to do in the morning before we can get on the road. I say it’s time to retire. That’s an order.” He narrowed his eyes at Lancelot for good measure.

Lancelot raised his brows innocently, shrugged and settled back down in his mat. Merlin flopped back down and shifted to turn his back to the others. His shoulders moved up, and Arthur heard a happy sigh. Arthur shook his head and pulled himself back under his covers, all seriousness until he turned his back to Lancelot. He closed his eyes with a content smile and went to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next day after they had finished their tasks and figured out how to get a raven and send a message, they traveled back. Lancelot walked alongside Merlin who rode, it being Lancelot’s turn to share the horse for a bit since they only had two. He looked up at Merlin and asked him a question.

“I wonder what brought you back to life, Merlin. It seemed like when the sorceress died that you came back. Do you think if she didn’t die, you would still be dead?”

Arthur glanced at Merlin, too, wondering the same.

Merlin shook his head with a baffled frown. “I don’t know. I wondered if Gaius may be able to answer that when I see him again.”

Lancelot tapped Merlin on the knee. “Not that I’m not happy you’re back. It’s just I have never heard of anything like this happening.”

Merlin pressed his lips into a small smile. “I know. I wish you were going back to Camelot with us, Lancelot.”

Lancelot raised his chin with a happy smile. “Me too, but I’m glad Arthur came to get me. I’ll always be around to help if you need me.”

“One day he will—come back to Camelot,” Arthur said and smiled at the both of them. “And I’m glad I came to get you, too, Lancelot.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Text

~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of days later when Merlin entered the infirmary with Arthur, Gaius exclaimed, “Merlin!” He stood up from a workbench to greet him. “You never cease to amaze me, my boy.” He slapped Merlin across the shoulder blades and pulled him into a hug, Merlin’s head pitching back as he did. Then he looked at Arthur and clasped his arm. “Thank you, Arthur.”

A small clatter sounded from Merlin’s room above and Hunith came rushing down the stairs. “My son, come to me, please!” Hunith met him halfway and took his face in her hands, looking into his eyes. Then she embraced him with everything in her.

“We got your message,” Gaius said. Then, looking at Arthur, he said, “Thank you for stopping Nimueh.”

Arthur nodded and Hunith took his hand. “Thank you, Arthur, for saving my son. First, you saved my home from raiders, and then you avenged my son’s death and brought him back home alive.”

Arthur swallowed and found he was barely able to talk when he answered. “I don’t think that last one had anything to do with me. I’m grateful to Merlin for saving my life. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay him.”

Hunith squeezed his hand with a smile. “You will, Arthur. You will.”

Gaius cleared his throat and looked at Merlin. “There are some that know of your miraculous event, Merlin, but they have sworn themselves to secrecy. Gwen, myself, your mother, Morgana.” At Morgana’s name, Merlin raised his brow. “Yes, she would like to speak to you and Arthur about magic and about the druid boy.”

Arthur was rocking on his heels and rubbing his folded arms. He grimaced but gave Merlin a meaningful nod when they exchanged a glance. He wouldn’t forget his promise.

“We will do that, Gaius,” Arthur said and looked at Merlin as if looking to see if he agreed. Merlin nodded. “I need to return to my quarters now; and, do I need to check in with my father?” Arthur looked at Gaius.

“Your father thinks you have been hunting—with Merlin, apparently,” Gaius said with a small grin.

Arthur raised his chin and huffed with a small head shake. “All right,” he said. He cleared his throat, opening the infirmary door. As he walked out, he turned to see all their eyes on him— smiling and full of hope.

Arthur closed the door. He stood in front of it, facing the rest of the castle. He paused before going down the stairs, pressing his thumb into his palm that Merlin’s mother had just squeezed. She had given him that same look that Merlin had given him so many times. Her words echoed in his mind even as he heard laughter behind the door.

He had said, “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay him.”

“You will, Arthur. You will.”

He twisted the ring on his finger, his mouth slack.

She really believed he would change Camelot. They all believed that. Believed in him.

Arthur swallowed, his vision blurring. They believed in him. Maybe it was time he started believing in himself.

He took in a deep breath and straightened himself, dropping his clenched fists to his side.

They were right. He would. Arthur nodded his head, taking the first step down and made his way to the throne room to see his father.

~~~~~~~~~~